


In The Aftermath

by SpenceRose



Category: The Ascendance Trilogy - Jennifer A. Nielsen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harlowe is Too Good for this world, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly just Conner feeling bad for himself, Slow Burn, redemption arc, the slowest burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpenceRose/pseuds/SpenceRose
Summary: Conner already knew well that he was kinder than anyone else he’d known. He knew he was far better off here, in Harlowe’s home, than anywhere else Jaron might have sent him.Conner owed Harlowe so much and he despised him for that very reason.





	1. Chapter 1

Conner had been lucky to be allowed to stay in the castle in almost comfort while he’d healed. He’d woken with the last memory he held being King Vargan slashing him across the chest. It wasn’t until someone had come in to tend to him that he had found out what had happened after. They had won the war and Jaron sat on the throne still. Never had Conner been so relieved to hear that the boy was still alive. 

He considered himself even luckier that they waited until he could get out of bed and move about without assistance to decide what to do with him.

He should have ended up with a noose around his neck after all he had done and he thanked the saints that he hadn’t. Instead, he found himself in a carriage going towards Libeth. 

Beside him sat the man that had orchestrated this, Rulon Harlowe, and across from him was his son Roden. The young man cast a glare at Conner every so often but didn’t say anything. In fact, the entire carriage was silent and Conner couldn’t be more grateful. He didn’t know what to say to either of them. He knew Harlowe had kept him from being exiled and there was nothing he could say that expressed his gratitude. Carthya was his home and he didn’t think he could ever leave it.

At some point during the journey, he fell into a restless sleep. He still wasn’t completely healed and the day had been draining with all the stress and preparations. His sleep was dreamless, which was a blessing since most of his dreams had been nightmares lately. Perhaps it was a side effect of almost dying. 

Harlowe woke him some time later and Conner made a soft sound of complaint before opening his eyes, feeling as though he’d just closed them. He blinked tiredly at the man as Harlowe just gave him an amused look. Finally Conner rubbed sleep from his eyes, stifling a yawn. 

“We’ve arrived and if you don’t want to sleep in here, I suggest that you follow me out,” Harlowe said. Conner nodded and, with the other man’s help, stepped down from the carriage. “Careful.”

He gave a tired nod as he straightened up and then looked to Harlowe’s estate. It was nothing compared to his own but it was as inviting as the man that lived there. Even so, he couldn’t help the pang of homesickness the settled in him as he did, thinking longingly of Farthenwood. It made the ache in his chest worse.

He came back to himself as Harlowe stepped past him towards the front door. Conner followed behind him, feeling a bit stiff after such a long trip. His hand came up to rest on where the bandages that dressed his wound laid under his shirt, his hatred towards it and the weakness it caused growing a bit more with each step. How pathetic he felt.

Once he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the beautiful if somewhat simple interior tiredly. He expected nothing less from a man like Harlowe. He glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, taking in his features once again. He wasn’t unattractive and Conner already knew well that he was kinder than anyone else he’d known. He knew he was far better off here, in Harlowe’s home, than anywhere else Jaron might have sent him. 

Conner owed Harlowe so much and he despised him for that very reason. 

He was a bit startled as Harlowe looked over and met his gaze and gave a soft smile. He didn’t expect to be caught looking at him but then the older man didn’t seem to truly notice. 

“Joss will show you to your room and then someone will be sent up to change the bandages on your wound,” he was told and gestured to a servant, indicating that he was Joss. Conner gave him a curt nod and then looked to Harlowe as he continued, “Dinner will be soon, I believe, but you can look around if you’d like.”

Now that surprised Conner. After everything, being given such freedom was a possibility he had thought was long gone. Not that he’d expected a man like Harlowe to lock him up. Actually, now that he thought on it, he had no idea how he expected to be treated here. Perhaps he’d have someone posted to follow him everywhere. Not that he truly planned on wandering around at the moment. All he wanted right then was to sleep.

He thought of all this as he was led to a bedroom, the inside of which was just as lovely as everything else. Though his attention was instantly on the bed. It looked so soft and inviting. He moved across the room so he could sit down on it and a soft sigh left him. It was just as comfortable as it looked. He suddenly felt so much more tired. 

Still, sleep would have to wait a bit more until the bandage had been changed. He took a moment to shift and pull off his shirt, clenching his teeth at the pain the movement caused. He dropped it and then glanced to the young servant that brought everything. He kept still as they work on him, moving as prompted as the wound is dressed.

“May I ask if I should expect to be watched closely while I’m here?” he asked, not really addressing either of the two servants. They glanced to each other as if determining their answers. “A simple yes or no is all I want.”

“I don’t think Master Harlowe will assign someone to follow you from room to room, if that’s what you’re asking, but you might be under quite a bit of scrutiny, yes. No one really expects you to move around much at all, actually,” Joss answered and gestured to his chest. Conner nodded, not entirely surprised with the answer. He looked down at his chest as they finished and reached up to brush his fingers along the bandages.

“I realize I shouldn’t expect anything different,” he said and then waved his hand to dismiss them. After a moment, he gives a nod. “Thank you.”

They exchange looks again, making Conner wonder what exactly has been said of him. They give nods then and finally leave the ex-noble to his own devices, much to his delight. He just lays back on the bed and stared up towards the ceiling. But sleep did not come. He found that despite his body being weak and tired, his mind was wide awake and caught up thinking of his current situation. 

Why would Harlowe bring him here? Conner was such a horrible man and to bring him around his family…  He was too good to be true. Conner had before acknowledged that he was such a kind man but no one was  _ this _ kind. It was almost surreal. Perhaps it was to keep Conner in his debt. He knew he’d never be able to repay him, could never hope to. He hated that fact. 

He gave a soft huff to himself and shifted in the bed to a more comfortable position, bringing the blanket up to cover himself. He needed rest, hoping he might be able to make sense of all this after. He prayed to the saints that he might get some sleep.

He could practically hear the laughter of the devils when he finally did fall asleep, plagued by nightmares as he usually was.


	2. Chapter 2

Conner woke with a start, a sharp gasping leaving him as his eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling in confusion, almost having expected waking up back in a cell. Though as he ran his hands over the blankets, he knew where he was. That didn’t mean he believed it. He doubted he ever would.

He took a moment to catch his breath, bringing his hand up to trace over the bandages again. He sighed and then slowly sat up, clenching his teeth against the pain. He let out a slow breath, hand resting on his chest still.

He didn’t even know how late it was but it was dark out and he could see the moonlight streaming through the window. He slowly got to his feet and walked over to it, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to it as he looked out to see the moon high in sky. And yet he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping again tonight. Might as well take a look around.

With a sigh he changed into something a bit more appropriate to be caught out in. With that, he went to the door, not at all surprised to see the vigil when he opened it. He just straightened his shoulders and gave the man a look as he walked out. The man tried to stop him but he glared at him. 

“Harlowe said I can look around.”

“But--”

“And I intend to. Leave me be.”

With that, he turned to walk down the hall, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He paused though when he heard footsteps behind him and he sighed, turning to tell the vigil to leave him alone again but instead his eyes fell onto Harlowe as he stepped next to him.

“I thought you might sleep through the night. It appears I was wrong,” he said, his voice quiet to not disturb anyone else. Conner gave him a look and turned to continue on, hoping Harlowe might leave him alone. Of course Harlowe just matched his slow pace, walking beside him. ”Might I ask why you’re wandering about so late at night?”

“Why are  _ you _ ?”

Harlowe lifted an eyebrow and chuckled a bit before answering, “I was on my way to bed when I heard you come out. I thought I might see how you’d settled in.”

Conner gave a hum and kept his eyes forward. Harlowe looked at him in amusement, probably at his silence. Conner wondered if he could make the man feel anything else, or if he was capable of feeling anything else at all.

“Shouldn’t you be going to bed? It is rather late.” 

“I am. My bedroom is this way.”

Conner blinked and nodded, clearing his throat. “Right. Of course.”

He hoped that would be the end of it. He didn’t want to continue a conversation with Harlowe, with anyone really. He’d left the room in hopes of no one being awake, that he’d be alone with his thoughts. Sleeping hadn’t done anything in the way of helping calm his mind. If anything, it was even more hectic than before. 

But then Harlowe’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “You didn’t answer my question.”

It took Conner a moment to realize what question he was referring to.

“I slept long enough and had decided to look around what’s to be my new home.”

“You still look tired.” Quite frankly, he still  _ felt _ tired. 

He didn’t respond to that other than to give a hum and they were in silence again, something he was grateful for. He glanced to the doors they passed and wondered briefly which room might be Harlowe’s. 

Conner thought back to his time with the Avenians. At least there he could fool himself into thinking he had the moral high ground. He’d considered himself above them, told himself he wasn’t a traitor. Even so, he didn’t believe it now anymore than he did before. 

Here, however, he couldn’t lie to himself. He despised that and despised himself for wishing he could be given that option. As if pretending he were a better person than he is might help him. He knew it wouldn’t, for he hated himself with the Avenians as much as he hated himself now. Perhaps he even hated himself more, if that were possible. 

It was when he realized that Harlowe had spoken to him and rested a hand on his shoulder to get his attention that he came back from such thoughts. He looked to the other and blinked slowly. “I’m sorry?”

“I was wishing you a good night,” came the response, a kind smile on Harlowe’s face. Then again, did he ever have a smile that was anything but? “I’ll see you in morning. Do try to get some more sleep.”

He then turned around to go to a door quite a bit behind them. Conner wondered how long he’d been lost in his thoughts as they’d walked and why Harlowe had walked with him in the first place. He shook his head then and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. It didn’t matter, he was alone just as he’d wanted to be. 

He considered for a moment just going back to his room but he knew that his mind wouldn’t allow him to sleep anytime soon and the idea of sitting in that room like that was suffocating. It was nowhere near the unpleasantness of the palace dungeon but he still had no wish to even remotely replicate it. 

Then again, wasn’t that what he deserved? To be locked up like the criminal he was? He rubbed a hand over his face and continued walking, reminded yet again of the unusual amount of freedom he’d been allowed. He scowled at a nearby painting as it were to blame for his situation. He should have been put anywhere else that wasn’t here.

With that thought, he turned and stalked back to his room. The same young vigil as before still stood there and seemed to be trying his hardest to appear as if he wasn’t falling asleep on his feet. Conner ignored him at first and opened the door to step into his room but then paused, turning to him suddenly. 

“What is your name, boy?” he asked and the young man seemed surprised to be addressed so abruptly. Truly, Conner himself was surprised with it. Was it genuine curiosity or simply not wanting to be alone with his thoughts at the moment? He wasn’t even sure “Come, answer the question.”

“Uh, Lonnie, sir,” came the response and Conner studied his features for a moment, pressing his lips together. He wasn’t anything extraordinary in terms of looks. Brown hair that matched his brown eyes and boyish features, a collection of freckles dusting him. He couldn’t be any older than Mott. 

“Am I to expect you to be here each night? Or how often?”

“It looks that way. Either me or someone else.” He seemed hesitant to share information but Conner didn’t relent, his dark eyes resting on him and the expression on his face making it clear he wouldn’t be filling this silence any time soon. Finally, the awkwardness seemed to get to Lonnie and he continued speaking, “We were instructed that you needed someone nearby at all times, see? Because of your…” He gestured weakly to Conner’s chest and the older man brought a hand up to the bandage that was under his shirt. 

“And that’s the only reason?” he asked, almost accusingly. Lonnie shrugged. 

“The, er, the king wanted you to have close eyes on you at all times,” he explained further and Conner scowled. There was nothing unreasonable about that but for some reason the fact that it had been Jaron that caused this got under his skin. Perhaps he should have been exiled so he didn’t have to deal with him again.

He gave a curt nod and then turned to go into the room. 

“Is it true?” Lonnie’s voice came again and Conner paused, turning back to him. 

“Is  _ what _ true?”

“That you saved the king’s life?”

Conner paused. Was that being talked about? He figured that no one knew, that Jaron wouldn’t want anyone to know. Regardless, he nodded. 

“Yes, it is. I should have died and yet here I am, somehow still very much alive despite all I’ve done.” He pursed his lips and shook off such thoughts. He was grateful for his life to have been spared but his was such an unpleasant existence now. 

Without waiting for another response, he stepped into the room and closed the door with a bit more force than perhaps was needed. Once he was out of sight, his shoulders drooped and he allowed himself to wince at the soreness in his body from the fatigue. An unpleasant existence indeed. 

He looked to his bed regretfully, knowing that sleep was hopeless. As tired as his body was, his mind just wouldn’t allow it. He looked to the few things he’d brought with him, wondering for just a moment when they’d gotten in the room. Though he didn’t really concern himself with it as he walked to his bag and dug through it to bring out his book. 

This would be better than wallowing, he thought to himself as he settled in a chair to begin. Perhaps it would even help him sleep. Or so he could hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning found Conner in the same position, staring at the same page he had been for the last few hours. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to absorb a single word on the page or even sleep. His mind whirred with his selfloathing thoughts and trying figure out the reasoning behind Harlowe’s kindness, the kindness he hadn’t thought possible for a man like him to receive. What had he ever done to deserve it? He should be dead at worst or, at best, rotting in Carthya’s dungeons. 

He lifted his gaze as there was a knock on the door and then rubbed his eyes tiredly with one hand before calling for them to come in. He glanced to the servant that entered, a young man that looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else. It seemed his only job was to inform Conner that breakfast had been served. Though Conner had no intention of seeing others, he had missed dinner the night before and was starving. 

“Have my breakfast be brought to me.” 

“Master Harlowe was adamant that you come down to the dining room, sir,” the servant said. Conner frowned deeply, unsure as to why Harlowe would even want his company. He knew for certain that the others that were there wouldn’t want to see him. But he just sighed and nodded. 

“Very well. I’ll be down soon,” he said and waved his hand to dismiss the young man. When he was alone again, he stood and stretched, only to wince in pain. How he hated this. He should have allowed Vargan to kill Jaron. 

Immediately, he shook his head at himself. No, he never would have allowed that to happen. A bit of inconvenience and pain on his part was nothing compared to what would have happened had Jaron died. Besides, this was less than he deserved. He should be thankful. 

He scowled to himself as he dressed for the day, movements slow as he did. Finally he left the room. A different vigil was by the the door and asked Conner if he’d like him to show him where the dining room was. It only took a moment for Conner to agree, since he was still learning his way around but the help was something he loathed to accept. 

Thankfully, there were no attempts at conversation as they walked, the vigil’s dark eyes remaining forward as he led Conner and his mouth turned down into a frown. At least someone was showing Conner the contempt he felt for himself. When they got to the dining room, Conner gave the young man a curt nod and then entered the room. 

Harlowe and his family were already seated, Roden on his father’s right and a young girl across from him. Nila, if Conner remembered correctly. Harlowe’s smile was kind as he greeted Conner and indicated that he sit. Conner paused for a moment and then sat at the end of the table, facing Harlowe himself. He had no wish to sit beside the other two, knowing Roden hated him and, upon seeing the look she had given him when he entered, believing Nila probably had similar feelings. 

Conner was mostly silent throughout the meal, only saying something when Harlowe spoke to him directly though after a while that stopped being a problem. Instead he listened politely as the newly reunited father and son spoke, Nila being brought into the conversation occasionally. Conner glanced to her. She seemed so sad for a child of her age. 

When breakfast ended, Conner almost just went back to his room but Harlowe stopped him. Conner pressed his lips together and then turned back to his host with a polite smile as he spoke. For some reason, despite all the kindness he’d been shown, it still struck him as odd as Harlowe offered him one last thing: the use of his library. 

“It would be better for you to remain within these walls but perhaps that might offer you a bit of an escape. It often does for me.” 

Conner blinked. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. Come, let me show you where it is.” And with that, he turned to lead and Conner followed a step or two behind. 

As they entered the library, the familiarity of being surrounded by so many books calmed Conner and his mind. How nice it felt to finally have something not suffocating. Harlowe glanced to him and smiled as Conner stepped farther into the room. 

“Should you need anything, let someone know,” he said lightly and shut the doors behind him as he left, leaving Conner to his own devices, much to his delight.

He selected a book from a shelf and found somewhere comfortable to sit and page through it. He’d always had a craving for knowledge, hating to be ignorant about anything. 

He stayed there for quite some time, not wanting to face anything else anyway. It wasn’t as though he had much else to do. It was here that his exhaustion got to him and he fell asleep. And is there that he’d stay until someone came to woke him.


End file.
